


the wound is the place where the light comes through

by kuro49



Series: jason rare pair challenge [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Getting Together, Nipple Piercings, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Where they come from, there's love to be found in the gutters too.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Jason Todd
Series: jason rare pair challenge [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1409680
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121
Collections: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge





	the wound is the place where the light comes through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wajjs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wajjs/gifts).



Like a tripwire in the dark, she stumbles upon him.

Her boot finding purchase against his outstretched legs, her face just shy of making full contact with the rooftop tiles as she braces her fall. Red Hood cranes his head back the same moment she looks up. Blinking behind her domino mask, Stephanie imagines he is blinking behind his too (well, the one that sits beneath the bright red beacon of a helmet she's never seen him without).

"So," she starts first, breaking the ice as she picks herself up from the rooftop where she tripped over his prone form. " _You_ 're the bad Robin."

"Is that what the old man's been sayin' bout me?" His voice filters out in that modulated tone, like he's speaking to her from a distance away even though it'd only take three small steps to bring her right to him.

"Nah, I just like to put words in his mouth." Stephanie tells him, shrugging one shoulder as she sits upright, watching without reacting as he lowers the scope of his sniper rifle to turn to her completely when she isn't leaving like she's encountered the plague with him. "I just know you as the Robin that died, and the big guy didn't even have to say anything about that when I can see your memorial case every time I step foot inside of the cave no matter which entrance I take."

"Seems like I'm not the only one to hold that legacy anymore." Red Hood answers, sitting upright himself to match the way she faces him, reading open in her body language in a way he almost thought he was reading her all wrong. He’s not.

"You still did it better." She tells him evenly.

He laughs, the sound all warped and weird through the voice modulator. "You're damn right I did it better."

"It isn't a competition." She points out. Jason Todd as she barely knows somehow still manages to level her a look from behind the shiny reflective red and she relents, this time to say. "It totally fucking is and I can't believe I _lost_."

He laughs again, the tense line in his shoulders going loose ever so slightly.

Ever, ever so slightly, the line of his shoulders shake to say: "Nobody likes a sore loser, Blondie."

On another Gotham rooftop, she nearly kicks him in the groin before she recognizes him when he comes out swinging from the corner.

"Fancy seeing you here on this fine Gotham night." Stephanie tries for casual, but really it feels like if she reaches out, touches her glove to the armour of his Red Hood suit, she would feel nothing but the crackling of static electricity and the thick pungent scent of nicotine to come wafting her way, to fill up her nose and settle into her lungs, curling tendrils inside of the confines of her chest cavity until she pops like a balloon.

Her mouth pulls into a slant, head tipped to the side, both hands raised up in a placating manner that gets him reeling to a complete stop. And it's like he never means to step waist-deep into what she's anticipating to be the Lazarus effect and its encompassing rage that rattles you down to the very bone.

"What do you want, Blondie?" His voice is still that same tone when he opens his mouth, and she reads what she wants from it with zero disregard, one foot at all times on a landmine rigged to explode.

"Black Mask." She didn't go looking but bats like them have a habit of finding out anyways. You don't cripple a major pillar of the Gotham underground without a good portion of it coming down with it, not with the kind of faulty infrastructure in this city.

"Didn't do it for you."

"I can still thank you, can't I?" She asks even though she really couldn't careless, not when she still flinches back sharply at the sound of power fucking drills like she is stuck in the same place, on that same loop, walking the same road towards recovery and making progress she doesn't see or feel. Drill into bone pass skin and flesh. He's not her but they are similar in some of the worse fucking ways.

"Maybe when I finally put him down for good." Jason tells her, a shrug in the line of his shoulders, the tension in them rolling out naturally like a slow sinew stretch. Crowbar against skin to break bone through flesh. He probably knows far better than herself that recovery does not exist in any linear way. “But my hands are tied and if I don’t play by the Bat’s rules in his town, well, y’know how _that_ goes when the sheriff comes riding down main street.”

She's got something to say to that, drill whirling in her ears, phantom pain blossoming in every nerve ending she still feels any sensation from. She shrugs too, following the way his shoulders move as she answers with a smile that is both ugly and horrid. "It's not like he killed me for real either, so it's already better than nothing at all."

It’s final, unlike their own demise.

It is one rooftop. And another. And then another when she leaps across the harrowing distance while he lands in the shadows.

His helmet is cracked, her mask is torn.

The only bats left here are the ones that have died and come back like some vengeful little things that can't be killed. It's not true but nothing has come around to prove things twice. One life is lived, and one death should be all it takes. Even limbo is kinder than that moment they make land to crack tiles across the rooftop they are on.

“Rough night, Red?” Stephanie asks, her lip split and beading blood against the swelling corner. Every word forms of rust to taste foul across the flat of her tongue.

“Couldn’t be worse than yours.” Jason answers, chuckling despite the concerning wheeze to the way it tapers off. His voice coming out without the modulator, his voice filtering through the cracks of the helmet to sound like something even her dreams couldn’t conjure up.

“Ha. Fucking. _Hah_.” She answers him, swallowing hard against that lump in her throat, turning over on her side with an audible wince just to watch him as he reaches back to release the mechanism on the helmet that gets it to open up all the way despite the heavy damage it took to the side.

He is dripping blood at the temple, sweat across his skin, a wicked curve for a jaw, and the white fringe a shock among the dark mess of curls.

“This is just unfair.” She groans out as she drops back down against the rooftop, staring up at a Gotham sky that is really all light pollution but envisions his face anyways when she blinks.

“What’d you say, Blondie?” He asks with a wince when he touches the cut just above his brow.

“I said," she calls out to him. "Wanna fuck?”

In an apartment on the east end of Gotham, there is one particular unit with too much purple.

"You like these." Stephanie points out, lying naked on top of her bed, her hands reaching up to grab at her breasts, pushing them together to accentuate the stark contrast of the black horseshoe barbell nipple rings she's got on. His face goes red, and she grins because she doesn't think she will ever get tired the way that colour ignites across his skin.

If he was expecting tact, he isn't about to get it from her.

"You should get them too, Jason." She says with a grin that is as sleazy as she can make it. Turning over to stretch out on her stomach, she props her chin up on one hand to watch him pick up the scattered remains of his clothes from her bedroom floor. "You’d look so good with them."

Her heated gaze going extra slow as she sees the long red lines she's made against his skin, all along his lower back to curve around to his sides. And then the ones over his shoulders to end with an imprint of her teeth from where she dug in when he got her coming for a third time with just his mouth before he finally fucked her into the mattress.

She doesn’t look away as he pulls on his pants, and then his shirt, blue eyes trailing as he comes around the bed to where she is.

"I'm good." Jason tells her with confidence as he pulls the holster straps for his Glocks just that much tighter.

She motions for him to lean down to her level, and he follows her lead. She captures his mouth in a kiss, licking into his open mouth, sucking at his tongue until she gets him groaning out her name and that he’s already running late. They are not a thing in any capacity but they'd be hard pressed to stop now. The noise he lets out fills the cavern of her mouth, going a little rougher and hitching just perfectly so as her fingertips graze at a nipple over his shirt.

"Come on," she says, only letting him go then, watches him blink back thick lashes from his green eyes, "y'know I'm never wrong about these things."

He hardly looks convinced. She still helps him make the appointment for two Tuesdays from then.

Stephanie Brown goes hand in hand with bad ideas, and Jason Todd with them. But this might be her worst one yet when he finds himself sitting in a tattoo parlour of a friend of a friend of Steph's getting his nipples pierced while she holds his hand.

"Barbells or rings?" Stephanie asks him as the girl from the shop sets down a tray of jewellery for his choosing.

He's got white in his hair but he is pretty sure there are greys too among all the strands of black when he stares down at the options. "Whatever you want."

She grins, and it is all teeth and probably a little mean. "So, does that mean we are getting your tongue and your cock pierced too?"

Except it puts control right within his hands to make a decision.

"Barbells." Jason grits out to the girl who is putting on a pair of blue medical grade gloves. The staff smiles with reassurance and eases him down flat. Steph’s mouth pulls into a pout next to him but her eyes are gleeful and she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of wincing as she holds his hand when he squeezes down _hard_.

He refuses to let her touch him for weeks following the appointment.

And goes as far as to tie her hands together in very creative ways when they fuck. Tells her no touching before he is sinking down to his knees to eat her out, his hair tickling at the skin just below her belly button, the stubble across his jaw when he goes without shaving for a couple of days scraping across her inner thigh as he works a finger inside of her alongside of his tongue.

He keeps her up by the hips and feels the tremble in her thighs.

Digs his thumb in against her skin, where the bruises fade from blue to the tail end of healing yellow-green, and rubs at her clit.

He is quiet while she gets loud, babbling to beg for mercy she knows he isn’t about to give her, not when she’s never given him any reprise when she is in charge. It’s an unfair game they play with each other but it’s pleasure-induced. Fun too when she can finally remember any other English word that isn’t his name said in a mantra or think beyond the onslaught of endorphins flooding her system like the rush of blood in her ears, muting the moan she parts her mouth for as she comes.

“ _Fuck_.”

She breathes out as she lays on her back, staring up at her ceiling still blinking back stars as the sweat cool over her body.

There is the tumble of her blonde hair in his face as he chuckles next to her. It’s hardly a competition but there is clearly a winner here when she can't even remember the number of times she came at his hands. Jason props himself up on an elbow to grin at her with all his teeth.

“I’d be impressed if you can top this somehow, Blondie.”

Famous last words from his truly.

Back in her apartment, back in her bedroom, and they are back on her bed.

" _Fuck_ ," is what he says when he sees it for the first time. "That's bigger than I am."

Stephanie smirks, holding full eye contact with him as she traces a vein with her finger down from the thickened swollen head of the purple strap-on all the way to the base.

"Knocks you down a peg, doesn't it?" She catches the way he shivers as she dribbles lube over the length of it, ring finger and thumb a loose ring as she works them down, watches the way his shiver runs through his spine to make his toes curl into the sheets when she makes a promise of this caliber: "We're gonna make a proper size queen out of you yet."

He swallows hard, his cock already stiffening in his shorts as he sits there in the center of her bed, her stuffed animals wedged at his lower back. He tries for a joke but it comes out hoarse, on a dry throat, his tongue dragging across his mouth to moisten his lips. "I'm surprised it's not an actual eggplant."

She laughs and her shoulders shake with it. "If you're game, I've got one in the fridge."

He shakes his head vehemently but otherwise keeps still as she gets on the bed with him.

“Okay then, is the big bad Red Hood going to do as I say?” For half a second, Steph is convinced Jason isn’t going to play along, that this is too much. For the latter half, Steph just watches as Jason nods gently, not a sound and near-docile with compliance. “On your back for me then.”

And he goes.

She pins him to the bed by the thick purple dildo buried all the way to the hilt.

He is breathing through his teeth at the full fit of it filling him so completely. He feels everything. The way he is made to accommodate the size after a liberal amount of lube and just three of her long thin fingers pressed alongside of his when she tells him to open himself up for her. Pain is easy. This is decidedly a little more complicated than gritting his teeth and riding it out because none of it is painful. It is so far removed from that. It feels vividly good despite the constant foreign feeling of intrusion where the toy stretches him out.

"Wait, Steph—" He lets out an embarrassingly loud groan when she shifts and manages to slam the head of her cock bluntly against something inside of him that gets him nearly jerking off of the mattress.

She hums at his reaction, eyes bright in delight as her lips curl with wicked intent. "Looks like I found a good spot."

She wraps her hands over the sharp cut of his hips, pinning him down to the bed with considerable strength while she pulls out halfway. She hardly needs to warn him, it's in the way she smiles down at him. If he wants, he is more than strong enough to flip their position and pull off the makeshift cock she is fucking him with.

But he _wants_. Feels it like a slow crawl of heat up his spine, feels it keenly in the way he can't help but squeeze down tightly on the strap-on dragging viciously across every good spot inside of him. There’s light in the dark, and she fills up the whole spectrum for him in these moments.

When she pushes back in, all the way to the hilt, she nearly jostles him into the headboard.

She is not brutal on each thrust but she is steady as she fucks him, rocking the full size of the toy inside of him, each time hitting his prostate to make his toes curl into the sheets while his fingers clench at the stuffed toys next to his head. Her eyes are wane, voice smooth and sweet like honey to drip over him. She reaches out, and brushes the stray curls plastered in sweat across his forehead while his teeth sinks down against the swell of his bottom lip, leaving the deepest indent as he muffles his moans.

"We should do this more often, you look too good on my cock like this, Jason."

He's pretty sure Steph could ask him anything and he would say _yes_ in this very moment.

She keeps going, her hand drifting over his belly, swiping a finger over the droplets of precum dripping from his cock, watches the way he gasps near noiselessly when she doesn't touch him right where he wants it. Instead, she presses her palm down gently, right above the happy trail that leads to his cock to say: "I can practically see how big I am inside of you."

Jason lets out a noise that he'd never admit it for a whine but that's exactly what it is when he's looking up at her with glassy eyes from beneath his lashes. She rubs her hand against him, pulling out slow just to slam back inside even harder each time. And she can't see a thing against the taut pull of his muscles but she likes to tease him until he can imagine the way every last inch of her cock is buried so deep inside of him, big enough as she fills him up to have it show even from the outside.

He is close and he tell hers just that, voice rough and raw and on a rasp as he grasps at her sheets.

She doesn't touch his cock, she simply touches him everywhere else. Her eyes filling with warmth as she watches him shake apart as he comes around her.

His nipple piercings may be healed but they are bright red and puffy and so sore from all the abuse Steph has put them through when she was finally allowed to touch.

She likes rubbing at them. She also likes to pinch them between two fingers and tug at them until his whole chest feels like it’s on fire. Even then she doesn't relent because she likes to draw her tongue across each nub, making sure he feels every drag of the rough surface of her tongue against him.

And she does all of that now, reaching down with both hands to torture his chest from where she sits straddling him across his torso.

She had pulled out, had him letting out a quiet whimper as his hole clenched down on empty after being stretched out on her cock for so long. Still half-dazed from how hard he came, he barely felt a thing as she dragged her strap-on over the mess of white all across his navel, only breathing out a faint groan when she rubbed up against his softening cock to catch the last remnants of cum.

None of her actions made in succession truly registered until the blunt head of her cock was nudging at the seam of his mouth.

"You're going to clean up after yourself, aren't you, Jason?" She asks sweetly, batting long golden lashes at him as she smears his cum across his lip in waiting.

He opens up.

Parts his lips and takes her all the way down to his throat. It's messy, probably far messier than what she's made of him between his legs when there is his cum mixed with all the saliva that gathers in his mouth each time he takes the toy deeper. His tongue feels thick, tastes bitter too when he swallows around the toy and tastes nothing but the overpowering tang of his own release. He licks the toy clean to near perfection, until it is just skin-warmed silicone.

"Jason." She sighs out, her mouth parting just a bit as she drags her fingernails across a hard nipple, bright purple lacquer looking almost dull next to the silver of the barbell. His face is flushed and he is in the habit of making little guttural noises from all the way inside of his chest that she drinks down when she draws back just far enough for him to pull off the toy. "How the fuck have we never done this before now?"

He chuckles, and he sounds wrecked when he tells her. "Beats me."

The good kind of wrecked that she can't look away from when his hair sticks up funny with sweat and his mouth is all red and swollen and his eyes are bright in that way only a good orgasm would do. Stephanie leans into the way his fingers drag across the skin of her waist then hips. Waits patiently too as he undoes the whole thing while she is perched on her knees above him, lets him work each strap of the strap-on off until finally, _finally_ he can take all of it off of her.

"Next time I'll even switch it on." She tells him with a grin before she lets herself be pulled on to his face by the hips, a grin that gets wiped clean the moment she feels his mouth against her cunt.

He chases the bitter taste of his own cum with her on every press of his tongue inside of her, feeling exactly how she drips, all wet and hot and sweet for him.

Slow rocking jazz, every note thrummed against the skin of his bare hips as he reaches for the nice plates Steph never takes out, she stumbles into her apartment through the fire escape window, still in her vigilante uniform, and finds Jason in her kitchen making waffles for breakfast.

Cuts up too many strawberries into slices to go with the homemade whip cream, drops a heavy dollop of maple syrup and a sprinkling of icing sugar like it makes any sort of sense for him to be here, doing this for her. But Stephanie has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Heard you guys had a rough night.” He says when she scarfs down half her plate without question.

“Would’ve been easier if _someone_ showed up.” She tells him between bites.

"Guess my invitation got lost in the batmail."

She looks up from her plate with dry blood still in her hair, blinking at the hazy edge of him standing by her kitchen sink, outlined in sunshine. The split at her lip is still fresh when she shovels a big enough bite into her mouth to keep from smiling wide enough to make both corners of her mouth hurt. Because Jason may be of the belief that he might just be some kind of cosmic mistake, but Stephanie is of the fate-defying, spit-in-the-face of karma type. She has no clue what that makes them when they are together but.

He smells of her shampoo, his skin of her soap.

And when he comes back to the table with a fresh plate of waffles to share, she tips her head up for a kiss. It's a tripwire she falls for even in broad daylight, hits her knees hard with every fall, bruises to accompany the scrapes. Boiled down to get all the bullshit out, tragic pasts and admission to torture and post-demise revivals aside, this might as well be some mismatched story that resembles love when girl meets boy on a Gotham rooftop in costume (and then completely out). 

His mouth tastes of her tongue, every lick of it like fresh strawberries and cream, and as he pulls back, maple syrup that he licks from his bottom lip.

**Author's Note:**

> title is a Rumi quote. and here to ruin the Rumi quote is [what steph pegs jason with](https://www.pinkcherry.ca/products/me2-rumble-vibrating-silicone-strap-on-in-purple).


End file.
